The Sycamore Slayer
by midnighters
Summary: After the brutal murder of her parents, Bella moved in with her grandmother in Arizona. Now that her Nana has passed away, she returns to Forks to the only family she has left. But the killer isn't done with her. And she isn't done with him.
1. Chapter 1

What I remember most about my parents is they always used to fight a lot. My mom hated Forks. It rained all the time and everyone in town was always gossiping about her. She was a real source of entertainment for them. She'd wanted to leave for as long as I could remember, I guess even before I was born. Sometimes I wonder if I was the reason she got stuck there. But she had nowhere else to go and my dad wouldn't leave. His whole life was in Forks. He and his sister Molly were seventh generation and the Swan family had always lived at 1022 Sycamore Drive. He was Chief of Police. He knew everybody.

It was a school night. I remember because I had a homework assignment due the next day that I hadn't finished. I was scared sick. I got into bed earlier than usual cause I figured a good night's sleep was the best I could do for myself. My dad was still watching TV. The house was pretty small so when they started yelling at each other, it wasn't hard to hear. In fact, it was hard not to. I know my dad was stressed about a bear going round killing hikers and my mom was probably reeling from the latest rumors. But I didn't know exactly what they were yelling about. That kind of sucks. Even though it was a fight, it was the last time I heard their voices.

I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I knew, I was waking up to the feeling of someone watching me. My back was to the door. There was no sound, no real reason to believe someone was standing there but I could feel they were. I told myself it wasn't real, it was just in my head. But I couldn't bring myself to roll over and see for sure. I just told myself to close my eyes and go back to sleep. Everything would be OK if I shut my eyes and went to sleep.

I woke up to daylight streaming in through the window. That was a pretty rare thing. I take after my mom in that I love hot weather. At that moment I'd completely forgotten about the dream I had and the sunshine put me in a really good mood. I thought it was a sign that it wouldn't be all that bad with the teacher. I was usually a good student, they'd probably let me off this once. I got up and went to the bathroom.

I remember thinking it was weird that no one knocked on the door. There was always a queue for the bathroom. But I got to brush my teeth in peace. I took that as another good sign.

When I crossed the hall to go back to my room, the house was really quiet. That was unusual, too. It started bugging me as I got dressed. This horrible feeling started creeping over me.

"Mom?" I called out from my room.

I opened the door.

"Mom?"

No answer.

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, I noticed a glare from the living room. The TV was still on. But it was on mute so it was just people talking and staring at me without making any sound. I turned and walked toward the kitchen.

My parents were sat at the dining table for breakfast. They each had a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice and a plate of toast to share. They didn't move or say anything when I walked in. They just stared at each other in horror.

They'd been propped up in their chairs. They were bone-white and the autopsy would later reveal they were completely drained of blood. I couldn't remember picking up the phone but I was already talking to 911 when I noticed there was a place at the table laid out for me.


	2. Chapter 2

The funeral went by in regular fashion. I guess funerals were pretty standard things. No one wanted to dwell too much, they just wanted someone to say nice things and then they could leave.

I was in the front row sitting next to a bunch of old ladies I didn't know. Renee, my grandmother's best friend and my own mother's namesake, delivered the eulogy to a small congregation at the Arrowhead Memorial Gardens. She told us about the kind of adventures she and Marie had shared over the past forty-three years. She'd never lost her spark, Renee claimed and I knew she was right. I'd lived with my grandmother for the past six years and I'd never seen her miss a beat. Until near the end, of course.

We filed out in an orderly fashion. Different people paired up outside to chat and catch up. There weren't many people here, but everyone here seemed genuinely stricken by the loss. They had truly liked if not loved my grandmother. I'd hope, when my time came, my passing would be like this.

"How are you holding up?" Renee came over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm OK," I nodded. Was I lying? I couldn't say.

The drive to Renee's house was short. The wake wasn't all that interesting. There was lots of finger food and standing around. People were drinking scotch and one old man even offered me a glass. I told him I was seventeen. He told me when he was seventeen, he was already in the war and saw two of his friends die on the same day. So what harm would a little scotch do me? I didn't answer him. I just stood up and walked away.

In the parlor, Renee was on the phone.

"Yes, of course... She can stay with me for as long as she needs... Uh, Tuesday, I think... Oh, Bella!"

She spotted me and called me over.

"It's Tuesday your flight leaves?"

I nodded.

"Yes, Tuesday. I'll be driving her to the airport... Sweetie, what time will your plane land?"

"Um. 11 am."

"Did you hear that? ...Ok, yes. No, that's fine... Your Aunt Molly's gonna pick you up from Seattle. Do you want to talk to her?"

She offered me the phone but I declined. I left her to her conversation and ventured upstairs.

In the guest room where I'd be sleeping, there was a dresser with framed photos lining the top. Some included my mother. She was a child in these and the spitting image of myself at that age. They were on a beach somewhere. I wish I knew where. Most of the photos were of the same two women. Marie and Renee, the unstoppable duo. Here they were horseback riding and there they were at the Grand Canyon. There was even a picture of Nana cosying up to Harrison Ford.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and let the tears fall silently. A deep sense of shame came over me because I wasn't crying over Nana. I was crying over moving back home.


End file.
